Sin City Dreams
by Demitra Florentini
Summary: When Walter gets sick, Olivia and Peter go alone to Atlantic City to investigate a case. But dead bodies aren't the only ones they'll be investigating while they're there... ;  Slow for the first few chapters, but I promise it gets good!
1. Day 1: Preface

A/N: Okay, so this is my first Lemony smut stuff, so bear with me here!

WARNING! THE FIRST 2 OR 3 CHAPTERS WILL BE HELATIOUSLY BORING BUT AFTER I GET PAST THE OBNOXIOUS TASK OF PLOT AND SETTING THERE WILL BE SOOOOO MUCH GOOD STUFF YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO CONTROL YOURSELF! So just sit night and let the excitement build... ;)

I do not own Fringe or any of it's characters

Day 1: The Relatively Boring Day...

Preface

"Dunham," I picked up my cell phone and pressed the receiver to my ear, groggily trying to focus my eyes on the clock. 4:30 AM. Just great. Why did these pattern maniacs have to pull all their stunts under the cover of night? I would understand if these were normal criminals we were talking about here, who needed the veil of darkness to pull of their racketeering, but this crap was creepy enough in broad daylight.

Plus, these late night calls were driving me to burn the candle at both ends. I don't think I've gotten more than a wink of shut eye in a week. If it's not paper work in the office til one in the morning or Broyles ringing my cell at the crack ass of dawn, then it's the countless nightmares rousing me with my own screams of horror in the witching hours. Lately, the dreams have seem to have taken aim at a different side of my emotional spectrum; I watch in terror, unable to look away as people die. Let me correct myself: Not people in general, more like one specific person. Peter. I didn't realize how much of an impact his death would have on me until I looked at my bloodshot eyes in the mirror every morning when I face the day ahead after a night of pacing. But why does his death seem to bother me so much more than all the others had, even more so than Rachel and Ella? My brain has been far too fried to piece together an answer...

I met Peter, Astrid, and Walter in the lab, the entire ride over was something of a haze of Daft Punk and French roast coffee. When I got there, ever Gene the fat lard cow was asleep. Don't they get up at the crack of dawn to be milked or something? (or so says my limited knowledge of Little House on the Prairie living) Shows you just how early we're all up.

"Rise and shine, sweetheart," Peter seemed a little overly chipper this morning. "No use delaying the inevitable. You're already here after-"

Peter was interrupted by the sudden wheezing and hacking of Walter, finished off with the unmistakable splashing noise of...

"Oh no..." Astrid groaned. I turned around and looked at the cause of her distress; the color drained from my face slightly. After all the things I've seen here, the sight of Walter's up-chucked dinner was still enough to turn anyone green.

"So _That's_ where the rest the the cherry pie went! Walter, you do realize that expired two weeks ago right?" He grabbed some paper towels and helped Astrid wipe up the mess.

"Oh nonsense, Son, they only put those dates on there so they can cheat stores into having to restock more often! It's a conspiracy!" His last comment was topped off by yet another violent spell of regurgitating cherry pie and bile.

"The bodies of the case are in a rather... run down area of Atlantic City. If we're going to get any leads on this case of what appears to be, in the words of one witness, 'spontaneous combustion' we're going to need to drive out there," I said, remembering again why I had gotten up at this ungodly hour in the first place.

"Well Walter certainly can't go in this condition," Peter stated, sighing.

"Yes I can-" Walter retorted before Astrid cut in with, "No, Walter, you really can't."

"I guess I'll stay back with Walter then. Astrid and Olivia can go get the bodies," Peter said, appearing to be rather depressed over the whole idea.

"Really, Peter? You're going to send two girls to an Atlantic City ghetto to fetch two char-boiled hooker's bodies?" Astrid said in disbelief. "I don't think so. You go with Olivia, I'll stay here with Walter."

Peter nodded in agreement, "Well, then I guess we better get packing. Sin City, here we come."

Is it just me, or did peter agree to that a little... _too _easily...?

A/N: Okay so the next chapter will probably be uber-plot heavy like this one, but please don't shoot me! The smut will come people, the smut will come in good time...

Also, Reviews are nice... :)


	2. Day 1: The Drive Up

**A/N: Okay here's another chapter... I know none of them are very long, but so long as I get lots of hits and reviews I will post up new chapters extremely often cause I have no time on my hands... So enjoy and review!**

Day 1: The Relatively Boring Day...

Chapter 2: The Drive Up

So Peter and I went out to the parking garage and _he_ drove _me_ in _my_ car back to _my_ apartment, which really pissed me off because it's _my_ car and it's not like I was incapable of driving or anything... What, is he a sexist? Thinks I can't drive my own self home?

"Go pack your bags," Peter said, leaning out the car window. "It's a beach town, remember, so bring some kind of bathing suit. And maybe a nice dress."

"What? Why?" I said, irritated that he was telling me what to do. I can figure out what to bring! Well, I mean, maybe I could use a little help, I've never been to Atlantic City after all... But it's not like I plan on doing anything other than business while we're there! Nope, nope, no sir-ee!

"Well, it's a party city after all, and if you plan on sitting in a hotel room pushing papers for three days while you're in one of my favorite towns on the eastern seaboard, you've got another thing coming." I didn't have a reply to that, so there was a sort of awkward silence for a few seconds, filled with nothing but his deep blue eyes and dazzling smile... Why the hell are we just friends? Sometimes (okay every second of my life) I with he would stop seeing me as a best friend, or a stuck up law enforcement officer, or a co-worker and just see me as a prospective date. Is that too much to ask?

"I'm gonna head back to the apartment and pack up my own stuff," Peter said awkwardly (did I catch a blush on his face? You know what, I think I'm a little over tired right now. Yeah, that's all this funny knot in my stomach is. Damn, I need some coffee) "I'll be back in 20?"

"Sure, Sure," I said trying not to let my voice shake.

"You alright, Liv," He questioned suspiciously.

"Yeah, fine. Maybe I'm just getting a little of what Walter has..." I thought up a lame excuse on the spot.

"Walter has food poisoning. You can't catch food poisoning." Damn you, Peter Bishop.

"Well then I guess I'm just tired. Okay that's nice. I-I think I'm gonna shut up and go pack now. See you in 20! Bye, Peter!" I dipped my head behind my hair so he couldn't see my face. He rolled up the window and pulled away from the sidewalk.

He was around the block when I realized...

"Hey! That's my car, damn it! Peter! Get back here!" I sighed and stuffed my hands in my pockets and strode up to the door.

**PETER'S P.O.V.**

I was driving down the road, the orange light of the street lamps dancing on the wet pavement, I guess we had gotten a sprinkling in the few moments I was asleep last night. I sighed, thinking of...

"Olivia," I said her name out loud in the solitude of the car. _Her_ car. It smelled distinctly like her, that tangerine shampoo, the pickled ginger that fell under the seat when they stopped for sushi last week, her favorite French roast coffee, and something else he couldn't put his finger on that was just distinctly her.

"Olivia," He said her name again. The syllables rolled off his tongue so easily, fitting together like a beautiful poem. Well, it made sense after all since she herself was beautiful.

He'd long since passed through the stage of denial in this emotional roller coaster he called Olivia Dunham. It wasn't worth lying to himself, lying hurt too much. At least the pretending she might one day requite his feelings and the daydreaming filled the void most of the time.

But it was times like these where it didn't quite cut it. She didn't seem to excited about this little outing. He wanted to show her a good time while they were there, though. It might be his only real chance to romance her. He wanted to tell her how he felt, but he couldn't even bring himself to say it in the silence of the car, so how would he ever manage to do it to her face?

He wanted to do something special, give him the best chance he could muster up. He picked up the phone and called an old friend.

**OLIVIA'S P.O.V.**

Here we are now, driving down south on a 6 hour adventure to a city I've never before had a desire to go to. It's a land full of people like Peter Bishop - crooks and conmen. Never did I ever thing I'd be in lov-

Wait a second... I'm not gonna let myself say those three words. I'll only say those three words if he'd ever feel that same way about me, which he doesn't. And probably never will. I'm not going to break my own heart if I can help it.

I'd printed out the directions, but Peter seemed to have his own idea about where we're going, promising it'd be faster and have less tolls. To me, it feels like he's just taking me on a scenic tour of America's coastline, but what do I know. At first I was a little angry about it, but Peter actually seems to know where he's going and the view is actually really pretty. We had all the windows rolled down and the stereo cranked up jamming out to Modest Mouse (who knew he was into indie?)

"Liv, up ahead on the right," Peter pointed.

"What is- Oh! The horses! They're beautiful..." I said, always having had a soft spot in my heart for horses as a little girl. I kept it a secret, because I always wanted to seem like a tough girl.

"Bellow them," Peter said.

"What?"

"Yell something at them."

"Oh um, like what?"

"Hurry!"

"Um... I'M A PRETTY HORSIE!"

They all bolted, braying as they went. Peter and I cracked up laughing, and I don't really know what about it made it so incredibly hysterical, but it was.

"I'm a pretty horsie," Peter raised an eyebrow in my direction.

"Oh shut up you bloody moron," I retorted.

"Oh so you're English now? Pip-pip cheerio, Bonnie, shall we have some tea and crumpets this evening?" He was laughing. Hard. Oh why the hell does that turn me on?

I blushed. Virgin Mary, Mother of God, get me through these next three days without nose bleeds or blacking out...


	3. Day 1: This IS a Scene

A/N: I Don't really like this chapter, but this is about the case so I kind of had to throw it in here for plot purposes. It actually has some funny spats in here, so I'd read it anyways :)

Day 1: The Relatively Boring Day

Chapter 3: This IS A Scene

Six hours, 7 and a half minutes, 4 bathroom stops, and 12 cups of coffee later (you wonder why we needed 4 bathroom stops...) We pulled into Atlantic City around 1 in the afternoon. My blonde locks were blowing in the wind and I was belting out "Believe" by The Bravery, and I think I looked like I was high, but 1.) I was in a city filled with people who were probably stoned so I don't think I really looked too much out of place and 2.) I was with Peter Bishop who's seen me half naked, with bloodshot eyes, and watched me kill people. I really don't think this behavior shocks him. Okay, shocks maybe but it doesn't worry him.

"Here we are, Sweetheart," Peter said as if he was a little boy showing me his good report card. "Although I wish we would have come in at night so you could have seen the lights... It adds a little ambiance" A report card, tarnished by a single B among all the A's.

"Note to Self: Never feed Olivia sugar. Or Ecstasy. EVER. No matter how much she begs," Peter sighed, rolling his eyes. I was giggling like a giddy teenager.

"Okay the sugar I get... But the Ecstasy? I'm not high!" I pouted.

"Just seeing if you're actually listening. I need you in a semi-comprehensive state of mind right about now," He stated bluntly.

"Why's that?" I had the seat reclined back and was bopping my head to his indie music.

"Well, we just pulled up at the crime scene," He smiled and I heard his door shut. I bolted upright in the seat in a state of relative confusion, and he opened my door before I had the chance to even realize I should be getting out. Ugh, as if I couldn't just do it my self...

I stood up and was a little woozy from being in the car so long, but I didn't want him to think I needed help so I just smoothly walked out of the car. And... I also managed to smoothly fall backwards. And Mr. Chivalry-isn't-dead over there just felt the need to oh-so smoothly catch me.

My face flushed 10 hues of red in a matter of moments all the way down to my chest. A cocky smirk painted his face. Damn you, Peter. I got those weird knots in my stomach again... His face was only inches from mine, and I could smell the coffee on his breath. I licked my lips in anticipation. If I would just shut my eyes and move the smallest bit... NO! get a grip, Olivia. You are at a crime scene. There are other people here, people who you may not know but are co-workers! I jerked up.

"I'm FINE, Bishop..." I brushed my hair and lowered my head, straightened by back and walked swiftly away so he wouldn't see the desire painted all over my face. Fuck him for doing this to me; it's totally immoral. He pursued.

"You sure you didn't spike your coffee this morning, Dunham?" He questioned. I could feel the hurt in his voice and a pang can through my stomach.

"Yeah, sorry about that, Peter," I turned to face him and looked at him gingerly, giving a slight, embarrassed smiled. I'm such a bitch sometimes... "I think I'm just a little tired is all..."

"It's all good. Just pull through this and then we can go check into the hotel," Peter said and I turned to walk in and then I felt it. My face flushed again and I could feel my heart leap up into my throat. I swear to God there's no way he wouldn't be able to hear my pulse pounding away under my skin.

His hand was on the small of my back, leading me into the dilapidated club. I think I about passed out when I felt the light pressure and the warmth of his huge hands seeping through my attenuated dress shirt.

Agent Whatever-the-hell-his-name-is was apparently trying to explain to me who the bodies were and how they were nothing more than you're average streetwalkers, but I really only heard intermit in parts of the one way conversation:

"Third degree burns...prostitution...Krystal Moore and Shelly Stone...unexplained...devastating..." And then he asked me something, but I wasn't listening, much too focused on how to nonchalantly react to Peter's touch on my back. And now he required a response... I didn't want to ask him what he asked again, so I whipped out a few "Fringe Division Most Commonly Used Expressions" out of my expansive arsenal.

"We're going to need to send these bodies back to the lab at Harvard yes Walter you can ride with them call me if you have an leads on the case agent okay that's nice bye," And then I turned and walked out, praying that Peter wouldn't notice my awkward nervousness.

"Walter's not here," He bent down and whispered in my ear, sending my heart into rapid fluttering palpitations. I swallowed and I think I heard him chuckle huskily (sexily) under his breath.

**PETER'S P.O.V.**

Oh I am SO good. I could feel Olivia squirming under my fingers when we were listening to that doofus agent speak. He was actually a pretty attractive guy and was staring straight down at Olivia's chest. I shot him my best dagger eyes and he guy looked like he was about ready to shit his pants. I'm not sure whether it was a good thing or a bad thing Olivia was too spaced out to notice this little exchange we had going.

"We're going to need to send these bodies back to the lab at Harvard yes Walter you can ride with them call me if you have an leads on the case agent okay that's nice bye," She said speaking nervous and quick in that way she does when she's anxious about something, and judging by her response to the agent's question "So... do you come here often" cherry topped with a wink, I think I can totally assume said anxiousness has nothing to do with the case. It had to do with yours truly.

And, considering she didn't run away screaming at my touch, I'm going to go for a long shot and take that as a positive response. SCORE! These next few days might actually not be as bad as I thought...


	4. Day 1: Hotel Surprise

**Day 1: The Relatively Boring Day...**

**Chapter 4: Hotel Surprise**

**PETER'S P.O.V.**

We pull up to the hotel that Broyles had originally made us reservations for at around 4 in the afternoon. I looked at it. The I shut my eyes. Then I opened them again. Nope, still not looking any less horrible. Olivia had the same expression on her face. Boy did I have a surprise for her yet...

"Wait here," I told her and sauntered into the hotel. The receptionist, some asian girl who had managed to escape the world of prostitution in this city, smiled at me as I walked in.

"Hi sir, how may I help you this evening?" She leaned over the desk, beaming up at me.

"Hi I'd like to cancel reservations for a Peter Bishop and Olivia Dunham," I said real blase. He blinked twice a little surprised.

"Oh, um, okay thank you. Have a nice day!" We forced herself to grin and turned away to face the computer. I walked out smiling and slid into the car, the smell of Olivia flooding my senses.

"How bad was it?" She asked.

"We're not staying here," I replied calmly, stating it as if it were an obvious fact as I slid the keys into the ignition.

"But, Broyles-" She protested.

"Don't underestimate my jedi powers, Agent Dunham. I've made... other arrangements," I smiled to myself.

"Let me guess," Said Olivia, a smile growing on her own face. "You know a guy?"

"How'd you guess? You know me way too well, Olivia. It's making me nervous, I might just have to leave forever," I gave her a wink but she didn't look to amused. She actually looked kind... hurt.

"Peter... Don't leave," She said softly, so softly I wasn't sure I was even meant to hear.

I put a hand on her shoulder, "I'm not leaving, Sweetheart. I promise. I'm not going anywhere."

We pulled up to the hotel and Olivia's jaw dropped. "The Borgata?" She almost squealed.

"Only the finest," I grinned handing the key's to the valet right after popping the truck for the bell boy.

I put my hand on her back again as we walked through the glass doors. The look on her face was one of wonder and awe, like a little kid in a candy shop.

**OLIVIA'S P.O.V.**

I was looking at all the magical things to see, the beautiful light fixtures, the Cabrera marble floors, and the design furniture when a fat little Italian man ran up, wingspan spread wide.

"Peter Bishop! So good to see you! I thought you were gone for good when you left for Iraq!" His broad smile was warm and inviting and spread from ear to ear.

"Well, here I am! I really can't thank you enough for this, Vito, you're the best," Peter flashed a smile at his old friend.

"It's really not a big deal, Peter! After all, who'd ever think they'd see the day Peter Bishop would tie himself down to a woman!" The man laughed jovially with Peter. Tie himself down to a woman... What the hell is he talking about.

"Hey Liv, Give Vito and I a sec to catch up. Be a doll and go pick up the room keys from the receptionist," He winked and I resisted rolling my eyes as I turned towards the desk.

"Um, reservations for Bishop?" I guessed at what it was under, hoping he didn't put it under some dumb alias.

"Oh! Of course! We've been expecting you. Here are you're keys," One problem: there was only one set.

"Um, miss, aren't you forgetting something?" I questioned.

"Oh, yes! Here's some complimentary champagne," I looked at the label, it read: Wedding Special. What the fuck?

"No, no. I was talking about the room keys. I think there's been a mistake. There's only one set and they say Honeymoon suite," I said chuckling nervously.

"Um, no, it says right here on the computer: Bishop 3 nights, honeymoon suite. See?" She showed me the screen.

"Okay thanks," I smiled at her anxiously, combing my hair with my fingers.

"I hope you and you're fiance have a lovely stay!" The receptionist waved.

Suddenly it made sense. Tie yourself down to a woman. Honeymoon suite. Wedding special. Fiance. Peter told this guy we were getting married!

Peter Bishop I hope you've enjoyed your last few moments of life on this Earth...


	5. Day 1: Wrath

**A/N: Okay, so I know my latest updates haven't been speed of light fast like the others, but it's not for lack of writing! I just am putting a little more thinkage into these :) Reviews and still much encouraged... Enjoy!**

**Day 1: The Relatively Boring Day...**

**Chapter 5: Wrath**

**PETER'S P.O.V.**

I think Olivia's been ranting for a solid five minutes. I don't even think she'd stopped to catch her breath once. Damn, I wish I'd been timing this. This could be like the world record for the longest time talking without taking a breath! The girl has a gift...

Originally, I was interjecting with small objections here and there like "I'll sleep on the sofa" and "but isn't the view lovely? you an see the water and the sunset!" and "There's even a hot tub!" but after a while I conceded and let her burn off some steam. But now we were all unpacked and it was starting to get really annoying.

"Olivia," She kept on chugging full steam ahead.

"Liv..." Still nothing.

"EARTH TO DUNHAM!" She turned around.

"What, Bishop?" To my surprise she didn't actually seem that angry, almost amuse. I think she was fighting letting the corners turn up on the side of her mouth. I'm winning this battle...

"Why don't we go out to night," I suggested gingerly.

"Como que what?"

"¿Dónde usted quiere ir? Le tomaré dondequiera que usted quiere, ángel," I threw in a wink.

"English, Damn it!" She was laughing now.

"Bitch, I'm taking you out tonight," I said with conviction.

"Pardon?" She said.

"That wasn't a question, so go get changed because you can't go around town in your work clothes," I took of my shirt and walked to the bathroom. She was staring. I pretended not to notice.

**A/N: OKay so this is like ULTRA short, but this was an intermit in sequence that didn't fit in either chapter... The next chapter though is where things really start to get romanticy and good! But if you're enjoying the humor, I'm not gonna take it out so no worries :) If you have any requests of what you want me to put in, put it in your reviews! I promise to have the next chapter up sometime tomorrow... Until then... Be patient! **


	6. Day 1: Boardwalk Part 1

"Oh, Peter? This doesn't mean you're not in the dog house. It just means I'm too fucking tired to kick your ass right now." She licking her soft serve as we walked down the boardwalk. I was trying to entertain her, but I didn't exactly know how... She refused to let me by her anything, and she didn't want to shop. I thought girls liked that kind of stuff! I mean, every girl I've been with before this did... It's okay, Peter, Let's just approach tis situation logically...

cos(olivia) = ?

√olivia = ?

d/dx(olivia) = ?

[0 1](olivia) = ?

F{Olivia} = (1/√2π)-∞∫∞ f(t) eit(olivia)dt = ?

God damn it, this isn't working!

"Peter..." My breathe caught in my throat as she brushed up against me. "Are you spacing out again? You seem a little distant..."

"What? No, no! I just, um, do you want some fries?" I asked flustered.

"Ugh.. not really," She said skeptically.

"Well how about some pizza then. You like pizza, right?" I suggested.

"Peter, are you trying to turn me into a fat lard like Gene?" She asked.

"No! Of course not! You're not fat at all! I actually think u look- Never mind. But you've gotta be hungry!" I said, changing the subject.

"Hungry? I've eaten myself silly already!"

"Correction. I've offered to buy you food several times now, and you've declined all but one. The only thing you've eaten since noon is a kid's sized vanilla soft serve."

"But-" she started but I interrupted her.

"You know what? I really don't care about your needs. I'm hungry. We're getting pizza," I lead her into a pizza place.

The red head waitress, probably a russian, lead us to a lonely little table in the back. I think she was drawing conclusions, because it was hidden from the rest of the restaurant. As if this wasn't already awkward enough...

I ordered a piece of pepperoni that was the size of texas, and I could see Olivia's eyelids droop slightly when she smelled it. So she WAS hungry. I ate it tantalizingly slow. She watched me, licking her lips every once in a while.

"How's you're meal?" The waitress asked.

"Great, it's delicious. But can I get another slice? And a large cherry coke too, please." I asked and she left to go get it.

"Peter, you're not even halfway done what you have!" Olivia waved her arms in protest.

"Not for me. You," I smiled up at her.

She just sighed and put her head in her hands in her own Olivia way of surrender.

At first she wouldn't eat it, but she eventually cracked and slurped it up like a starving Ethiopian child. I was sipping on my cherry coke and she gave me hat look like "why aren't you sharing?"

"Want some?" I offered. She gave me a weary look. "Oh come on now, I don't have cooties." She sipped it gingerly and handed it back. I sipped again. Oh man, I wonder if this is what it would taste like to kiss Olivia Dunham. Cherry coke and pink lipstick. Yeah...

"Um, Peter, Can we go now? The waitress is sitting over there watching. It's starting to really creep me out..." Olivia said. I felt her feet brush against mine under the table. She didn't move them.

I didn't want to stand up, but I did anyways. "Come on," I said. "Let's go."

We were walking down the boardwalk some more, making small talk about the most random things such as topics like the phonetics of the German written language and bizarre fetishes and, of course, work. I laughed when she chased the seagulls into the air.

But, as we were walking along, I noticed she had her arms wrapped around her. I hadn't noticed it was so cold because I was wearing a jacket. I carefully slipped it over her shoulders. She paused and looked up at me.

"Well I would have offered to buy you a sweatshirt, but I'm pretty sure you would've turned me down..." I smirked at her. She blushed but slid her arms into the sleeves without any protest. I think I caught her sniffing it.

As we started walking again, I slipped my hands into my pockets, it was rather chilly. But suddenly I felt something cold on my arm. At fit it was so featherlight I thought I'd just imagined it. Something daintily trailed down the back of my bicep sending shivers down my spine. A lump formed in my throat as I realized it was Olivia's hand. It settled lightly right above my elbow.

Carefully, so as not to scare her into thinking the touch was unwanted, I slowly lifted my hand out of my pocket, inching my way around her waist puling her tight against my side. Her face flushed a million shades of rose when I looked down at her.

"I-I'm sorry," She stuttered and started pulling away but I just gripped her tighter.

"Don't be," I said, stopping and leaning on the metal railing. I pulled her tight against my chest with both arms, holding her as tight as I could. I stroked her her gently with one hand, burying my face in her neck. She smelled like coffee and tangerines.

We stayed like that for a while before Olivia turned her head up to face mine. Our lips were just inches apart and I could feel her breath mingled with mine as I looked into her beautiful green eyes. She mumbled daintily,

"Peter, I hate to ruin the moment but your crushing my ribs," I blushed madly and let go of her right away.

"I'm sooooo sorry, 'Livia," I was freaking out.

"Don't be," She stood on her tip toes and pecked me, right on my cheek next to my lips. She did that on purpose, didn't she? She wormed her fingers into my hand so they were interlocking with mine before we started walking again.


End file.
